


The Captain and His Commander

by Heavenly_Stellar



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Coming Out, Consensual Underage Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Hand Jobs, House Party, Implied Bottom Dean, M/M, Protective Dean, Sexual Roleplay, Smut, Star Trek References, Teenage Castiel/Teenage Dean Winchester, Teenagers, Underage Drinking, Virgin Castiel, mild homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 04:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5115089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavenly_Stellar/pseuds/Heavenly_Stellar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They did say love makes you blind. Well. It makes you stupid, at least. Hence, Cas’ current predicament. Sixteen-year-old Cas Novak is attending his brother’s Halloween party in hopes of seeing Dean Winchester, but his costume causes more problems than it should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Captain and His Commander

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Whenshipssail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whenshipssail/gifts), [Destiel_5eva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiel_5eva/gifts).



 

Tonight is Halloween, a night wherein the dead come back to haunt the living.

But all that haunts sixteen-year-old Cas Novak is a freakishly large vomit stain on the wall, beside the mantelpiece. Mr. and Mrs. Novak were away on a business conference and Gabriel, the eldest of the two Novak brothers, has seized the chance to go all out for Halloween. Gabriel plans to further fuel his infamous reputation for being the host of hosts. Determined to the point that he played hooky, stayed home and made preparations.

“Every detail counts, Cas-hopper!” Gabriel had crowed, rolling a barrel (God knows where and how he managed to acquire one, and Cas would rather not know) to the poolside. “You stayin’ tonight and having some fun?”

Cas had made a face. “No.”

But yet, here he is.

The pounding of the music reverberates through the house, so loud, that Cas can feel it bone deep. His eyes search through the mass of teenagers, trying to ignore the puke that dribbles down the wall nearby. Looking for Dean Winchester, the reason that he is here.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean had approached Cast at his locker, after the bell had rung, announcing the end of school. “Are you gonna be at Gabe’s party?”

Cas glanced up from packing his books away, momentarily stunned by Dean’s sudden presence.

Dean was distractingly pretty, and Cas had pined for him for as long as he knew of the other boy’s existence. Broad shoulders, thick biceps and bow legs. Freckles and bottle-green eyes. Plump, pink, cupid’s bow shaped lips. Dean is the loudest laugh, the brightest smile, the kindest heart. At least, that’s what Cas thought of Dean and they did say love makes you blind.

Well. It makes you stupid, at least. Hence, Cas’ current predicament.

But that afternoon Dean had blushed, and Cas liked how pretty it looked on him, then stammered, “I m-mean, of course you’re gonna be there. Hell, you live in the same house, don’t you? So… uh, I’ll… I’ll see you there, then.”

“Yes, of course.”

Those words had flown from his mouth like a free-spirited bird escaping its cage. He had actually never been to one of Gabriel’s parties, despite what Dean thought. His friend Charlie Bradbury was always his saviour and alibi. Cas was instantly nervous. But his apprehension was soothed by Dean’s wide and genuine grin.

His eyes had that mischievous glimmer to them, and Cas knees went weak.  

Dean had tapped the lockers, like a judge’s gavel, and said, “Awesome.”

 _Yes, awesome_ , Cas thinks glumly.

A hand slams down on Cas’ shoulder, starling him. Scowling, he turns to face the owner of the hand on him and groans internally. It’s Bartholomew. Due to the slight sway to his body and the smell of beer permeating from him, Cas gathers that Bart is definitely drunk enough to cause trouble.

“Heeeey, Cassie! How’s it goin’!? Y’know— I’ma just wonderin’, like…” Bart drapes his arm round Cas’ shoulder. “Like, who the fuck are you all dressed up as!?”

Cas glances down at his costume and becomes terribly aware of the prosthetic pointed ears he borrowed from Charlie. He fiddles with his homemade _Starfleet_ combadge.

“I’m…” he begins.

“Clarence!” Meg Masters throws herself at him, giggling madly and squeezing him tight.

Her cloying scent makes Cas want to sneeze. He pats her back awkwardly. He and Meg are what Charlie calls ‘frenemies’. When she takes an unsteady step backward, Cas feels the need to cover her with a blanket, as she is very scantily dressed. It is not that Cas doesn’t approve— he just fears that someone might mistreat her.

Meg squints at him. “Who,” she pokes him in the chest. “are you meant to be?”

“Spock!” Cas answers, shouting over the music.

“Oh, yeah, yeah! Got it, big boy! Can you guess what I am!? I’m the Devil! See!?” she poses and points at the sparkly red horns nestled in her hair, her hot pants riding up her thighs.

Cas merely nods back.

“Waaaiit, what’re you!?” Bart leans in closer Cas.

Both Meg and Cas yell back, “SPOCK!”

“Ohhhhh, riiiiiiight,” Bart starts to bounce on the balls of his feet, sloppily in time to the music. “From Star Wars!?”

“No, from—”

“Shit!” Bart interrupts, laughing. “Cassie, did not think you could get more fuckin’ nerdier!”

Meg reaches over and tugs on Cas’ earlobe, and he flinches at her touch. “I like ‘em! Like a fairy! And that’s too true, ain’t it?”

“Whaaaa?” Bart asks.

Meg tips her head back, eyes closing in exasperation. When she opens her eyes, she grabs on to Bart’s shoulder and shakes him. “Cause’ he’s gay, dumbass!”

Cas freezes, mouth agape. It is like his soul detaches from his body, and he can’t move or speak or even breathe.

Meg _knows_.

And she just _told someone._

Someone that Cas didn’t trust with that particular piece of information.

Cas’ palms become sweaty and he trembles with nerves, not knowing what to do. This isn’t how he wanted to come out. This shouldn’t have happened. It shouldn’t be happening.

Bart frowns, shaking his head like he isn’t capable of processing what Meg had just divulged. “Gay?” he looks at Cas with wide eyes.

Cas prays that both of them are too drunk to remember in the morning.

“You’re a _fag!?”_ Bart cries, loud enough that heads turn in their direction.

Cas shrinks, heart in his throat.

Unexpectedly, somebody presses their body against his back— a light bump, a declaration of their presence. Cas jolts.

“It’s me,” Dean Winchester murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of Cas’ ear.

Cas shudders, but otherwise remains silent and still. He sucks in a gasp when Dean winds his arm around his middle, bracketing him in with a strong arm. Cas welcomes the safe feeling that washes over him. His mind is a-buzz with the possibilities and fantasies. Never before had he realised how much he wanted, no, needed Dean to hold him.

 _Perhaps_ , he thinks, _I have died and gone straight to Heaven._

“Is there a problem?” Dean asks, voice loud and authoritative.

“Uh, well,” Bart splutters.

“Because if you have a problem with Cas, then you got a problem with me too!” Dean calls out, drawing Cas even closer, their bodies flush.

Meg eyes Dean with a smirk playing over her lips and Bart looks stumped. Dean then releases Cas, only to catch his hand with his own. Cas stares at Dean, meeting those gorgeous green eyes. A moment of understanding passes between them. Their joined hands tighten, both parties not planning on letting go.

Dean glances over Cas’ shoulder and flips Bart off with his free hand. “Later, asshat!”

Together they weave through the abundance of drunk teens. When Cas realises that Dean is leading them to the back door, to go outside, he plants his foot down. Dean stops immediately, brows rising in concern.

“What is it?” Dean moves into Cas’ space and cradles the side of his face, so tender and gentle. Cas can feel himself flush, cheeks burning pink. “Is something wrong?”

Cas doesn’t trust his voice to work, so he cocks his head, gesturing to the staircase. He looks into Dean’s eyes earnestly. Longing stirs in Cas’ stomach, and his gaze flicks downward when Dean’s tongue flicks out to wet those sinful lips of his. Soon, they are both upstairs in Cas’ room and kicking off their shoes.

“You lock the door?” Dean asks, voice rough and anxious.

“Not yet,” Cas strides over to the door and flicks the latch. Behind him, he hears the creaking of his mattress’ bedsprings. The thrill of them being alone, of Dean on his bed, sends heat travelling between Cas’ legs.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean pats a spot beside him, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

That’s all the encouragement Cas needs. He releases a shaky sigh, unsure of how to proceed. He has never _been_ with anyone before and hopes that things will go smoothly.

“So,” Dean rubs the back of his neck, smiling shyly. “I totally dig your costume.”

“Thank you,” Cas reaches out and lightly touches Dean’s _Starfleet_ combadge. “I can’t believe you dressed up as Kirk. What are the chances?”

“ _Star Trek_ is my jam, though,” Dean enthuses. “And…” he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the bolt of Cas’ jaw. “Maybe I was hoping I’d find my Commander Spock.”

Unable to help himself, Cas lets out a yip of laughter. “Pray tell, how long have you been waiting to use that line?” he asks.

Dean blushes. “A while,” he admits, smiling.

Cas has to bite down on his lip in an effort not to giggle. All his amusement, however, is quickly replaced with shock and wonder when Dean takes hold of his chin and guides their lips together. It awakens something new, something foreign within Cas and it feels _right_ and _good._

They’re sloppy— lips sliding together, noses bumping occasionally, sometimes too much tongue and too much teeth. But Cas is on cloud nine, and he knows Dean is too, judging by the soft noises he makes. Those breathy moans. Those sighs. Cas adores them along with the crinkle by Dean’s eyes and the dimples that form in his freckled cheeks when he smiles.

That smile is all for Cas.

Dean falls on to his back, and Cas follows, covering his flushed body with his own.

As their hips shift and thrust in tandem, the bulges of their hardened cocks find delicious friction. Shivers tickle down his spine as Dean runs his tongue along the line of Cas’ neck, tasting him. 

Cas fists Dean’s shirt as the other boy unzips his fly, gasping as the cool air meets his damp boxers, his dick straining against the material. His heart is going a million miles per hour.

Cas lets out a broken groan when Dean tugs down his boxers and wraps a firm hand round the girth of his cock. 

“Dean,” Cas writhes, “Oh God, D-Dean,” he pants into the crook of Dean’s neck, unravelling.

“One moment,” Dean puts a hand on Cas’ chest. Body tremoring with lust, Cas pulls back and helps Dean peel of their shirts. He watches with fascination as Dean wiggles his jeans and underwear down past his hips, then his thighs and his cock springs free.

Smirking devilishly up at Cas, Dean chuckles breathlessly, “Aren’t you going to kiss me, Commander?”

Cas surges forward, meeting Dean’s lips in a fervent clash.

Their hands fumble and reach between their sweating bodies, jacking each other off messily. Pre-come spills from Cas' slit as Dean probes it with his thumb, sending waves of pleasure crashing over him. He feels lost at sea, but is perfectly fine with riding out the storm. The arm that props Cas up, fingers twisting in the bed sheets, wobbles with exertion.

“Fu-uck,” Dean keens, squirming out of his briefs and jeans like they are restraints. “Ngh! Oh! Cas, please.”

Cas yanks off the rest of Dean’s clothes, tossing them aside. His hands knead the flesh of Dean’s thighs. Dean spreads his legs wide, chest heaving, and he crooks his fingers— a come hither gesture— and Cas gladly acquiesces.

“Cas, I w-want you to,” Dean audibly gulps, bends his knees and hitches his hips up, exposing his hole. “Against my ass.”

Cas leans over Dean, pressing his hardened and pulsing length against the crease of his ass, “Like this?”

“Y-Yeah,” Dean nods, eyes fluttering close in obvious ecstasy. “C’mon,” he grabs Cas’ sides. “Come on, Commander.”

“Yes, Captain,” Cas replies.

He works his hips relentlessly, driving his cock against Dean.

All over, his muscles burn and clench. Dean throws his head back and cries out, body convulsing, coating their stomachs with come. Seeing the most beautiful boy he’s ever known lose himself by his own body, throws Cas into an orgasm— moaning Dean’s name, over and over again. They collapse, side by side. Gasping for breath, both equally sticky with sweat and come. 

“That,” Dean pants, flinging one leg over Cas’. “That was fucking awesome. You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

Cas runs his hand over Dean’s thigh. “I…” he tries to even his breathing. “I don’t have words.”

“You don’t need ‘em with me, Cas,” Dean says, tugging playfully at Cas’ ear. He pauses. “Damn,” Dean sighs. “I think one of your ears fell off.”

“I couldn’t care less, right now,” Cas turns and kisses Dean. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Dean nips at Cas’ bottom lip, eyes sparkling. “Me too.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween. Boop that kudos button and comment if you liked it.  
> My [Tumblr](http://heavenlystellar.tumblr.com)


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